When She Sleeps
by RuthlessBallard
Summary: A devoted Commander is lost in his thoughts as he waits by his Captain's bedside. Warning: Small mention of rape.


She is silent, still and unmoving. She is in between worlds now. Her mind drifts into a different expanse.

Her burns have been healed, the superficial ones at least. She had been given a heavy sedative in hopes to give her organs time to heal. It will be time before she is fully healed but she will pretend all is well the moment her eyes flutter open. Her pale features look a little ashen but I will never tell her. The Doctor and I agreed long ago not to tell her what happens when she's under. She wouldn't like to know the "weakness" she shows.

She groans and I brush my thumb against her shoulder. She tenses and relaxes. This time isn't as bad, she's calm mostly. She's quiet, mostly. I assume she doesn't even speak her feelings in her personal logs. She wouldn't feel the need to bare her soul when floating between worlds. It's only when under medical slumber does she speak. When I heard what she had to say, I decided she would never be alone and certainly not with anyone who would not hold her secrets sacred.

The first time she decided to speak was after Voyager was trapped in a state of flux, she had fallen unconscious as whatever being attempted to make contact. Concerned for her well being, The Doctor placed her under sedation to study any effects long term flux would have on her brainwaves. She was stable, thank the Spirits. I was in Sickbay as well for a checkup when she began to speak. She so softly called to Mark, her fiance. Her cries for her betrothed were soft but quickly grew in desperation. The Doctor feared to sedate her more could worsen her condition. I took her hand and called her name. She wept. She apologized. She begged for forgiveness. I crawled in next to her, wrapped my arms around her tiny frame and lied to her. I told her everything was alright and that all was forgiven. I told her she would be home soon. She continued to weep but slowly she eased into silence.

The second time was on New Earth. Though we were essentially unaffected by the virus, we still had moments of symptoms popping up here and there. One night she woke with a mild fever and tried to hide the fact she had vomited the dinner I had made her mere hours before. We had been lovers for about nearly two weeks. Her guards were down but that didn't fight the anguished expression of shame she gave when she lifted her head from the toilet as I silently stroked her back. She attempted to shoo me away or apologize but I informed her that she better get used to me being there for her when sick because I wanted her pampering me when I am.

"I'm a giant baby when ill," I told her "I expect to be treated as one."

She tried to glare but ended up in giggles. She spent a few more hours in the bathroom and when done, she couldn't seem to sit still due to muscle pains. By the time I offered a hypospray, she was too tired to argue. I made a nest for her in our shared bed and pressed the hypospray to her neck. Within seconds she was fast asleep. I left her be for some time and busied myself cleaning up around the house. The sky was just turning a navy blue as dawn was making a promise to arrive when I heard a noise. She was speaking and I assumed she was calling out to ask for a glass of water or a wastebasket. No, she was speaking to her mother. I held her and listened to her beg not to go to school because she feared the professor would "make her touch him again". I felt nauseous this time. She said she tried to argue as her father taught her but that ended with her locked in a dark closet for the rest of the afternoon. I had no idea. How could I? She woke the next morning with more color in her cheeks. She seemed to be more chipper but still fatigued. As I watched her sip tea, while we watched the sunrise onto another day of paradise I couldn't bring myself to mention what she spoke of the night before. I never did.

The worst was when she returned from the Borg. I didn't leave her side for a moment no matter what the crew or Doctor argued. I knew in my very soul that she was fighting a battle and I wanted to be her back up. She would never be alone. She was silent for many hours, almost a full day until suddenly she spoke in an eery monotone.

"We are as one. We are Borg."

It was nauseating hearing it in her voice. So lifeless. So unlike her. Over time she would alternate as she fought her way back to individualism. Sometimes she was Kathryn and sometimes she was Borg. Her body was tense but at times almost seized. I asked the doctor to administer more drugs but he said saturating her more won't make it better. Then in the middle of the night. Her body relaxed. She released a long exhale and all she muttered was "Home". She woke a few hours after that, though I could see the struggle behind her eyes there was a strange sense of peace since then. Since then, she refers to Voyager as home more than Earth. Yes, returning her crew will always be her greatest obsession but she is finding more joy in the present.

She shifts once more. She speaks but what she says is inaudible. I keep my hand on her arm and it seems to comfort her. A very small piece of her is different each time she awakens from her dream speak. Sometimes she is grieving, sometimes she is happy, sometimes she is pensive but each time she has grown. Perhaps this is her way of guiding her spirit to where it needs to be.

"She's in between worlds now. Still and unmoving. She is traveling somewhere I can't go but I'll be here for her. I will be her anchor in this world, waiting and listening.


End file.
